James Potter and the Hogwarts Experience
by I heart Star Trek
Summary: James Potter is far from being in the first group of schoolchildren after the Second Wizarding War. However, he is the son of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, something Professor McGonagall is not looking forward to.
1. Sorting

James Potter was not paying attention. He was vaguely aware of Headmistress McGonagall speaking directly to the first years about the Sorting. He already knew what House he would be in – Gryffindor. It was practically family tradition – not only had his parents both come from that House, but so did all his aunts and uncles (the British ones, anyway) and both sets of grandparents. James heard his cousin's name called (she became the third new Hufflepuff) and sighed as the list dwindled on.

"O'Gowa, Padmé!" Professor McGonagall's voice rang. James' head snapped up. If they were at 'O', then he was due to go soon. He pushed to the front as the Hat sorted 'O'Gowa, Padmé" into Ravenclaw.

Professor McGonagall paused before reading the next name. James could see her expression subtley change – she looked slightly concerned. "Potter, James!" Grinning, James pushed his way to the front of the remaining, unSorted first-years and sauntered up to the stool, jamming the hat onto his head.

"Another Potter, aren't you? Your dad caused quite the dilemma when I sorted him," a voice spoke. With a start, James realized it was the hat.

"Did he?" He asked quietly, intrigued.

"But where to put you…" the Hat mused.

'Griffyndor,' the thought came, unbidden, to James' mind.

"Why?" The Hat asked. James was at a loss. Why should he be In Griffyndor? House of the Brave… He swallowed.

"Because I am asking…" James thought, just as the Hat cried:

"GRIFFYNDOR!" Just as he lifted it off of his head, James coud've sworn the Hat added: "No better reason." His grin returned, and he gave the Hat back to Professor McGonagall, joining the rest of the first-years at the Griffyndor table. There were about ten people left in the line; James crossed his fingers under the table when his other cousin was Sorted and applauded with the rest of his House as Fred sat down beside him. Finally, 'Zander, Belle,' became the last person the join their table and the Hall grew silent. Looking up, he saw that Professor McGonagall was standing at the teacher's table.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. Let the feast begin!" She announced, and James' attention was immediately captured by the food – everything he could possibly dream of. He piled a bit of everything onto his plate and devoured it, absently noticing his cousin do the same. When finally he felt he could eat no more, James elbowed Fred. "This is amazing."

When McGonagall had finally dismissed the school, six upperclassmen approached the group of first years.

"My name is Cassandra Rogers and this is Mark Jones. We are the senior Gryffindor prefects. That just means that we're in seventh year."

"If you just follow us, we'll show you the dormitory," Mark added, smiling. "This way." He hung back a moment, talking briefly with a group of four other Gryffindor students before disappearing into the crowd. James stuck with Fred the long trek up the Tower until they approached a portrait of an enormous lady in a pink dress.

"Okay guys, this is the entrance to our common room. All you need to do is tell the Fat Lady the password and she'll let you in." Cassandra said briskly. "Felix felicitis," she declared clearly and the portrait swung forward.

"Welcome," the Fat Lady smiled.

"Are you Harry Potter's kid?" James had just finished unpacking his trunk when some one addressed him.

"Yeah," he muttered. All his life, strangers were forever asking about his dad.

"Cool. I'm MacDougal. Sebastian MacDougal. You can call me Seb, if you want." Seb grinned. "Half-blood."

"Forrest Thomas-Finnegan," the boy lying on the bed across from Seb sat up. "Our dads were in the same year when they were here. Interesting tidbit I learned on the train. Now, I don't know about you guys, but I am _beat_." Forrest flopped back down onto his pillow.

"Well, my name's James. And this is my cousin, Fred." James introduced them, feeling slightly awkward for some reason. Changing the topic, he asked about Quidditch teams. Both James and Fred supported the Falmouth Falcons, abandoning Uncle Ron's favourite Chudley Canons in hopes of supporting a team that may actually be a World Cup contender. As it turned out, Forrest was also a Falcons fan; Muggle-born Logan Dykstrom had no idea what they were talking about, but Seb (being Irish) was a die-hard Bats fan. Despite the differences in their Quidditch teams, James figured they were going to be pretty good friends by the end of seventh year. He pulled the blankets up and drew the curtains, excited for the adventures tomorrow would bring.


	2. Day One

A/N: What's this? An update? Wow! Yay! Let's R&R, shall we? I'm working the next chapter, so hopefully it should be up quicker.

The next morning at breakfast, James was surprised when an owl swooped down and dropped a letter in his lap. He hoped that it wasn't from Mum – he'd only been gone a day. It wasn't, thankfully. It was an invitation to have tea with Hagrid at three o'clock on Saturday. James grinned all the way through breakfast, until he got his timetable. It was Wednesday.

1:00 to 2:20 Charms (doubled, Hufflepuff)

2:30 to 3:50 Herbology

11:00 to 1:00 Astronomy

He supposed that it wasn't too bad (he was free until after lunch, after all, he reasoned). Tomorrow's schedule looked:

9:00 to 10:20 Transfiguration

1:00 to 2:20 History of Magic

2:30 to 4:00 Defence Against the Dark Arts

Of all the classes she could have kept, Headmistress McGonagall had stayed on for first-year Transfiguration. In addition to a class with the Headmistress, tomorrow's schedule also held history.

James desperately wished that he hadn't left his broomstick at home. It wasn't anything fancy – an older Cleansweep Eight – but it was the broom he was used to and he loved it. He briefly thought of writing home for it, but quickly decided against it. First years weren't allowed their own broomsticks and he sincerely doubted that even his Dad would mail it to Hogwarts.

"Oi, James!" He looked up with a start to see Fred snapping his fingers in front of his face. "You going to eat that toast or stare at it all morning? I know I'd rather explore the castle." Behind Fred stood Seb and Forrest. James hurriedly crammed the last bit of toast into his mouth and swigged down a final mouthful of pumpkin juice.

"Let's go," James stood, his excitement finally showing. He glanced at the teacher's table, where a few of the professors still sat, discussing who knew what. He sauntered down the hall with his friends. There was another group of first years just entering, when one stopped right in front of James.

"Your dad's Harry Potter, isn't he?" She asked, pointing her finger at James' chest. Her large, widened eyes seemed to grow even bigger as she stared at him.

"Uh, yeah. His name's Harry." James shrugged her off. His Dad had told him last year about how a Dark wizard had killed his parents during the War but not Harry. James, while very intrigued by this (he had, in fact nearly begged his dad for more information), knew no more about the Second Wizarding War than any other first year. Harry had simply said that people might look at him funny because of his name, but they shouldn't bother him. James suspected, however, that Harry had not revealed everything to him. Fred also suspected that there was more to the truth than what the Weasley clan had been told, going so far as to suggest (to James, in private) that Harry had not even told Grandma and Grandpa Weasley everything. He wished that his father had told him the entire story, but realized that there was probably a reason that he hadn't. There were many other stories that he had regaled his children with, however; these included Hagrid giving Uncle Dudley a pig's tail, a floating pudding, and flying to school in a Ford Anglia (James wasn't sure that he really believed this last tale).


	3. Author's Note

Not an update – Author's Note:

Hey guys,

Thank you so much for following my story. Unfortunately, I haven't had a heck of a lot of time for writing recently, what with exams prep and juries and everything. I still have my performance jury and all my exams upcoming, so I haven't had a lot of time to write.

I am, however, just finishing reviewing Chapter Three and should have it posted soon.

x


	4. A Meeting with the Headmistress

"We're going to be late!" Sebastian's eyes widened in horror. "We're going to miss our first class ever all because you two wound up going the wrong way and we ended up on the OPPOSITE END OF THE CASTLE!"

"Relax, Seb. It's only our first day at Hogwarts. We'll just tell Flitwick we got lost." James rolled his eyes. "Besides, it was your idea." He chucked as Seb sputtered. "Okay, okay. It was Fred's."

"Come on guys, there's the door." Fred seized the handle and strode into the classroom.

"So good of you to finally join us. Potter, Weasley, MacDougal. Please take your seats so that the rest of us can continue with the lesson." Flitwick resumed. "Now, as you can see, while the spell's history is rather silly, the charm itself is rather useful. The incantation is _Wingardium leviosa_. Make certain that you speak clearly. Never forget the Wizard Baruffio who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

James, Seb, and Fred exchanged looks, furtively glancing at their feathers.

"_Wingardium leviofa_," James poked his feather, disappointed when no buffalo appeared. Flitwick was just trying to scare them, he decided. That, or Baruffio had been attempting a different spell.

A loud bang jolted James back into focus. A cloud of smoke was dissipating in front of Forrest.

"Thomas-Finnegan? I might have expected this, especially considering your father's…talents." Flitwick hurried to Seb and Forrest's desk and flicked his wand, summoning a new feather. "Please try not to destroy this one," he said, tersely, as he cleared the mess.

_Swish and flick_, James reminded himself. "Win-gar-di-um le-vi-o-sa," he enunciated, flicking his wand, surprised when his feather rocketed to the ceiling.

"That's the idea, Potter." Flitwick said, not unkindly. James frowned and stared at where the feather lay on the floor.

"Wingardium leviosa." James imagined a connection between his wand and the feather, rising together.

"Well done, Miss Cattermole! Five points to Hufflepuff!" James looked up to see Cattermole, her face flushed, shakily holding a feather afloat.

"Practise the Levitation charm. And don't forget, I want a ten inch paper due next Wednesday outlining the fundamentals of Charms," Flitwick dismissed the class.

The rest of the day progressed slowly for James. Neville (Professor Longbottom, he reminded himself) was an alright professor. Today they had harvested pods from some spiky plant; James had been the only person not to drop any (the pod, once ruptured, was useless) and while that had not earned Gryffindor any points, James was confident Herbology would be a breeze. At least tonight they didn't have homework.

When dinner finally rolled around, James hurriedly scarfed down his supper and left the table. "Oi, where're you off to?" Fred called after his cousin. James ignored him. He wanted answers and if his family refused to answer him, he would simply ask Professor McGonagall. Unlike most first-years, the ancient Headmistress did not scare him. Stern but kindly, Professor McGonagall had known both his own father, and his father's father.

James stared up at the gargoyle, heart sinking as he realized that he did not know the required password. "May I go up? I would like to speak to Professor McGonagall." The stone statue did not respond. "Hogwarts?" He tried half-heartedly. James turned to leave when the gargoyle opened and several professors exited, chatting amiably. "Immobulus," he whispered, grinning when the door did not close, unnoticed by the teachers. When he was certain it was all-clear, James slipped through the entrance.

"Merlin's beard! How on earth did you gain entrance to my office, Potter?" McGonagall, shocked, stood behind her desk.

"The door was open," James shrugged. Technically, it wasn't a lie.

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Is there something you would like to discuss Potter? Or do you simply plan on making unexpected appearances in your professors' offices over the next seven years?" James thought he detected a hint of a smile hidden in her firm expression.

"Uh, Professor. I was…curious…about what happened when my dad was at Hogwarts. People know my name before I introduce myself. They ask about my dad and aunt Hermione and uncle Ron. Dad told me that he helped to get rid an evil wizard…" James trailed off, unsure how to continue in order to successfully convince McGonagall to explain the story to him.

Professor McGonagall removed her glasses. "Potter." She said sternly, trying to make eye contact with James, who suddenly stood straight and looked her directly in the eye.

"Professor, my father is famous in the wizarding world. I've looked in the library already but most books are outdated and Madam Pince is very…protective of her books anyway. I haven't seen as much as his chocolate frog card in eleven years – the first time I found one was on the train coming here." James could see her resolve weakening and rummaged around in his pocket, pulling out a handful of cards and deftly sorting through them to read from his father's.

"Harry Potter, the first person (wizard or Muggle) to survive the deadly Killing Curse, is known worldwide for defeating the Dark wizard Lord Voldemort after having come face to face seven times. Potter's other notable achievements include the re-discovery of the Chamber of Secrets, proving the innocence of Sirius Black (previously believed to be a Death Eater partially responsible for the deaths of James and Lily Potter), winning the Triwizard Tournament after facing dragons, mermaids, Grindylow, and a maze, bringing Voldemort's reappearance in 1994 to the attention of the Ministry a year later, and eventually vanquishing the Dark wizard at the age of seventeen." James replaced the card in his pocket and imploringly regarded the Headmistress. "That's all common knowledge."

"Well Mr. Potter, it seems you already know a great deal about your father's past. I assume that if there are things he has not told you…or that you have found out," she smiled faintly. "Recent wizard history will be covered in your later classes with Professor Binns." McGonagall dismissed him. "I believe Professor Longbottom assigned homework today."

"Yes, Professor," James turned to leave.

"Potter." She called.

"Yes, Professor?"

"You have a copy of _A Revised History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot, edited by Padma Patil, do you not?" Professor McGonagall smiled faintly. "I suggest you return to your studies, Potter."

"Yes Professor." James grinned as he exited the office. He couldn't recall ever being excited to read his history textbook (or any of his older cousins for that matter; in fact, James highly doubted that anyone had ever been interested in reading _A History of Magic_, except perhaps aunt Hermione.)

Minerva McGonagall stifled a giggle as she watched Potter leave her office. Like his father and grandfather before him, James Sirius Potter was a mischief maker in the making. Already, this was obvious.


End file.
